La Première Noël
by tec4cleveland
Summary: Breaking my no "Guardian Angel" rule. GA was the first story I wrote, where a little girl named Amelie helped Caje and he wound up becoming her guardian (the "GA" went both ways). Some people really didn't like it, so you'll probably never see it here. But this is a Christmas story in that universe ... very 'fluffy'.


[Disclaimer: They're not mine. ABC's. Selmur's. Buena Vista's. Disney's. Image's, even. For fun and the love of it. Not a sou.

Rated: G; Warning for diabetics and others who can't handle fluff. This one's loaded with it. J

A/N: This one's not betaed. Enter at your own risk.

Set in the "Guardian Angel" universe; a 'kind of' songfic based on Enya's "If I Could Be Where You Are"[1] from Amarantine (two small word changes to make things more apropos). Amélie and Caje and her first Christmas in America.]

LE PREMIER NOEL

On the face of it, no little girl in Louisiana bayou country should have had less to worry about than Amélie LeMay. Hadn't her _Mémère_ and _Pépère_ LeMay taken her in and given her a good home? Didn't _Nonc_ Pierre come every day and tutor her in English, math and reading? And didn't her _Tante_ Hélène and _Nonc_ Armand and little Phillippe include her in their outings and make her feel very welcome? She could be very happy, only …

… oh, Papa.

_Where are you this moment?_

_Only in my dreams._

_You're not here, but you're always_

_a heartbeat from me._

She had a letter from him only a week ago; he shared news about each of his squad mates, whom she remembered in turn, fondly. _Tante_ Hélène had read the letter to her, to _Nonc_ Pierre's annoyance.

"Hélène, she's not going to get better at reading if you keep 'helping' her."

"_Nonc_ Pierre, she will read this letter to pieces, just as she has the others. But it takes her a while, and this first time, what she really wants is to hear is that Paul is all right. Besides, you're just being grumpy because you want to read it, too."

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful - niece …" The older man's plaint had an undertone of humor and there was a sparkle in his eyes that Amélie knew well. She'd figured out long ago that Papa's _Nonc's_ bark was far worse than his bite.

Amélie giggled over the items in the letter; Caje tried hard to make the news lighthearted. Kirby had gotten a pair of hand-knitted socks from his sister and had somehow managed to unravel them. Billy and Littlejohn found a puppy and Sarge had let them keep it as a mascot. Doc had gotten to go on leave to get some extra training. Everyone had said to tell her "Hello" – even Lieutenant Hanley. And he, Caje, was her own Papa and he sent her his love.

_I'm lost now without you,_

_I don't know where you are._

_I keep watching, I keep hoping,_

_But war keeps us apart._

_Is there a way I can find you,_

_Is there a sign I should know,_

_Is there a road I could follow,_

_To bring you back home?_

The little girl thought of the Lieutenant with special fondness. He had found her in the mess tent waiting to find out about Caje and crying. Her father was dead and she somehow knew that no one in the village was going to forgive her for being her father's daughter. Who would care for her now? Amélie was not sure that Monsieur Caje wanted to, but even if he did, what if he died, too?

The officer had kindly wiped her tears and told her in better than usual French (but not as good as Papa's!) that he was sure that she would find a home, and that if he knew First Squad's scout, she was on his mind and that he did indeed care what happened to her. Hanley had said that he was also sure that Caje wouldn't want her to cry, or be afraid.

She thought of that often, when she wondered if her Papa was all right, if he was warm and had food, and if he had escaped the _Boche_ yet again. She truly knew, alone of all her new family, the very real challenges Caje faced. There were no comforting illusions for her. She decided to protect the soldiers she loved the only way she could; she bowed her head and prayed for them.

_Winter lies before me_

_Now you're so far away_

_In the darkness of my dreaming_

_The light of you will stay._

xxx

"Down!"

Caje obeyed his own warning, diving to one side and rolling flat next to a downed tree. It wasn't much cover, but it was better than nothing.

"Caje! You ok?"

"Yeah, Sarge! But I'm pinned down – I can't move!"

He was close enough to Saunders to hear him as he growled something under his breath. Another round of bullets buzzed over the scout's head.

"Littlejohn! Flank left; we need to get some grenades in there!"

"Gotcha, Sarge."

"Kirby, cover Littlejohn!"

"Got it!"

The Cajun heard the roar of the BAR and knew Littlejohn was on his way. There was an explosion and the chatter of the Kraut machine gun stopped.

"Nelson, Kirkbride … check out the Krauts!"

Billy and Kirkbride ran over. Kirkbride waved back. "You got 'em."

A shadow fell over the scout. It was Kirby, grinning, who reached down to give him a hand up. "You oughta try out for those swimming movies when you get home. That was one smooth dive you made."

"I was trying for smooth. How did you know?" Caje started after Saunders.

Kirby snorted and followed him. "Whatever works, right? At least you're all in one piece."

The two men pulled their jackets closer and looked at the lowering sky. "Boy, I could use a heavier coat right about now."

"Well, Kirby, click your heels three times and wish; maybe you'll get it." Kirkbride had moved up behind them, unnoticed.

"Who asked ya?"

Caje grinned. "Hey, it's almost Christmas. Maybe Kirkbride's right."

Kirby shook his head. "Ahh, Christmas. You guys don't still believe in all that stuff, do ya?"

"Maybe they don't, Kirby, but I do." Doc was shuffling through his medic's bag, inventorying, and thankful there'd been no reason to use any of his supplies this time. "Caje just got a miracle, that's for sure."

"Someone must have been praying for me, no?" Caje and Doc exchanged smiles.

Kirby brightened suddenly. "Hey! Maybe someone'll get some cookies or something. They do that kind of thing for Christmas, don't they?"

Billy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Kirby, that's what Christmas is all about. Cookies."

Caje's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Your Christmas spirit is an inspiration to us all, pal." He returned to his customary point position and kept watch for the squad, sparing a thought and smile for the bright spot in his life. He knew Amélie was about to have the best Christmas she'd ever had.

_If I could be close beside you_

_If I could be where you are_

_If I could reach out and touch you_

_And bring you back home._

xxx 

"_Un, deux, trois_." Amélie counted the weeks on the calendar until Christmas. She took a deep breath and went into the kitchen to find her _Mémère_, who was talking to _Tante_ Helene. "_Mémère_, can we send Papa something for Christmas?"

"_Cheriè_, I don't know … what with rationing and all …"

"He can have my cookies. I don't mind."

"What about the Army feeding them?" Helene was puzzled.

"Well, they take this _poudre_ and put lots of water into it and cook it. Sort of." Amélie mimed stirring a very large kettle. "It's supposed to be eggs, but it doesn't taste like eggs very much. Sometimes they eat out of _petites boîtes_."

"Little cans?" The two women exchanged looks of horror.

"Paul said the food wasn't very good, but I just thought …" Annette shook her head.

Hélène picked up her handbag and took out her ration book. "I can spare a couple of coupons. We're not going to starve. I'll bet _Tante_ Charlotte can …"

"_Tante_ Charlotte can what?" It was _Nonc_ Pierre, arriving for Amélie's daily lesson.

"Pierre, can you and Charlotte spare some ration coupons? Amélie wants to send Paul something for Christmas."

"We have to send him enough so he can share. It wouldn't be nice to have something and not give Sarzhant Sunders or Leetlezhon or Lieutenant or the others anything." Amélie was looking at them on tiptoe over the kitchen chairs.

The adults exchanged glances.

"I'm sure we can provide something, Annette." Pierre looked at Amélie over his reading glasses as he sat down. "If you're going to help your _Mémère_ and _Tante_ bake for Christmas tomorrow, you must work extra hard on your lessons today."

The little girl climbed into his lap and gave him a big hug. "Yes, _Nonc_ Pierre. Merci for helping Papa."

He looked down at her kindly and kissed her on top of her head. "_De rien, petite_." He cleared his throat. "Now, let us begin work."

_Is there a way I can find you,_

_Is there a sign I should know,_

_Is there a road I could follow,_

_To bring you back home to me?_

xxx

On Christmas Eve, Hanley's jeep roared up next to the battered cottage where First Squad was bivouacked. "Mail call!" The squad tumbled out of the shelter, eager for the first mail they'd seen in weeks. _Amazing how fast Kirby can move when he wants to_. The Lieutenant stifled a smile.

"Kirby! Kirby! Nelson! Nelson! Nelson! Kirkbride! Saunders! Saunders! Doc! Doc! Doc! Littlejohn! Littlejohn!" The lieutenant laid the cards and letters on the hood of the Jeep like a first-class poker dealer.

Caje alone received no mail. He looked surprised and disappointed. "Nothing for me, Lieutenant?"

The lieutenant's eyes twinkled. "LeMay? Oh, yes." He nodded toward the back of the jeep. "I think that's yours."

The scout picked up a good-sized box, leaned over it and enjoyed the scent of pralines and other good things. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, it was like being home.

He took the box into the cottage and sat on the floor with it. Despite having mail, the others all seemed to have followed him and were hovering expectantly, including Saunders and Hanley. Caje ran his long fingers gently over the address written in a childish hand, which he recognized as Amélie's, on ruled lines. He knew who had drawn those rules – his own Papa had done the same for him when he wasn't much younger than Amélie. He carefully opened the package and found small bundles of treats wrapped in Christmas paper, with each squad member's name written on the top.

"Here. These are for all of you." Caje handed each package to the person it was addressed to.

"Thanks, Caje." "Yeah, this is great." "Appreciate it." "That's really nice, Caje."

The largest package was on the bottom; on it was written "Papa". Underneath that, there were four letters; he recognized his parents' handwriting on two of them. Another was in his sister's writing and the fourth was in the dark, angular scrawl of his uncle. Finally, there was a handmade card from Amélie. She had drawn a picture of what he was sure was meant to be the two of them. Inside the card, she had carefully written:

Dear Papa,

Merry Christmas. We put lots of love in the cookies and pralines just for you. I miss you and I pray for you. Please come home soon.

Amélie.

XXXXXXOOOOOO  
>(<em>Mémère<em> says that means kisses and hugs)

He'd been so intent on the card that he didn't hear Kirby move beside him until his buddy had cleared his throat a couple of times. "Kirby?"

"Sorry, Caje. Didn't mean to startle you. This was real nice of your folks." The BAR man squatted down and looked at the card. "From Amélie, huh?"

"Yeah." The two soldiers looked at the card.

After a moment, Kirby blew his nose. "Hey, Doc. That fire is smokin' something fierce. Poke it up, willya? It's makin' my eyes water. Caje's, too."

Doc looked at them kindly. "Sure thing, Kirby." He made a couple of half-hearted pokes at the clean-burning fire. "Any better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Caje," Lieutenant Hanley said. The scout looked up. "Do you mind if I write and say 'Thanks'?

"No, sir. That would be fine." The scout paused for a moment; Christmas had suddenly become very real and very personal for him. He glanced at Doc. "Luke 2, isn't it?"

The medic looked puzzled for a moment, then his expression cleared, and he smiled. "Yep." Doc pulled his Bible out of his pack and began to read: "And so it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed …"

xxx

"_Pépère_?"

"Yes, Amélie?"

"That big star there? Do you think Papa can see that where he is?"

Denis LeMay looked down fondly at the little girl. "I'm sure of it."

She waved at the star. "Hello, star! Tell Papa I am thinking of him." She took her grandfather's hand again and they followed the others to Christmas Eve Mass, with Reveille to follow.

xxx

The stars were clear and crisp in the cold winter sky. Caje was on guard duty. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen more minutes and then I can get some rest. The door of the cottage behind him shut quietly.

"You're early."

"Can't sleep. I have next watch anyway. You go on in."

"Thanks, Sarge." The scout stretched and looked up. "Say, does that one star look a little brighter to you?"

Saunders squinted up at the sky and then glanced at Caje. "May be. You should make a wish on it."

"Yeah. Not hard to figure out what I'd wish for, eh?" Peace on earth – especially here in Europe. The Pacific, too. To see Amélie and the rest of my family. It would be nice, next Christmas, to be home. The scout stopped at the door and looked back at his sergeant and friend. "Merry Christmas, Sarge." He smiled.

"Yeah, Caje. Merry Christmas. And a better New Year." Saunders smiled back, and settled in to stand watch with the stars for company.

-30-


End file.
